The Pink Sandals
by loopyfanficer
Summary: The turning point which inspired my fanfic: Footprints of an Assassin. I can't give to much away on here but please read!
1. WARNING!

**Warnings**: Confusion (on your behalf if you haven't read my previous fic – Footprints of an Assassin), Upset, Heart Break

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters sadly.

**Pairs**: Read Footprints of an Assassin to find out!

**WARNING! – If you are going to read this very short fic – to understand it you will need to read my other fic: ****Footprints of an Assassin****. **

**If you don't plan to read my fic then this probably won't make much sense – I actually wrote this a VERY long time ago and found it last week while I cleaning out my junk. I've posted it here just encase some fans of the fic would like to know what original inspired me to write footprints. **

**BTW If you read this fic before you read Footprints it will spoil the whole story!**

.net/s/4218399/1/Footprints_of_an_Assassin


	2. The Pink Sandals

**The Pink Sandals**

The first thing he noticed was the Pink sandals.

Silently he placed his motorcycle helmet on the floor next to the shoe rack as he entered into his small town house. The sandals were a rose pink - not too bright, with a detailed stitching of daisy flowers trailing the straps. They were a size 5 and looked fairly new.

Everything was too quite.

Something felt wrong.

He felt his breath shorten in small discreet puffs as his ears twitched to listen out for any faint sound.

He slowly and cautiously took a step forward, his boots sinking into the deep carpet of the hall way. He peaked his head into the kitchen, a faint twinkling sound of the wind chimes he bought last summer were blowing in the wind.

From his currently position he could see the whole of the downstairs. There was no one in the kitchen, nor was there anyone in the joining dining room. He could see into the lounge that there was no one currently occupying the couch which looked as if it had been recently been plumped. In fact the whole house seemed cleaner than usual apart from two half empty glasses which had been discarded on the kitchen table.

As he stepped onto the wooden panelled floor in the kitchen he could smell disinfectant in the air with a faint linger of women's perfume. He noticed as he searched the garden that some freshly bloomed yellow flowers had been picked and discarded on the kitchen counter.

He felt a small breeze waft into the kitchen through the redundant cat flap which had come with the house they'd bought. But it wasn't the cold that chilled his every nerve and set the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight.

At last he heard a sound, a small bump from upstairs. His quizative amethyst eyes snapped in the direction of the stairs in which instantly his feet began to move in quick brisk steps. He took the steps two at a time as silent and lithe as a cat.

As he reached the top of the stairs he stopped and listened. He could faintly hear movement from within their bedroom, soft movements and a coil spring. He felt his heart pick up a beat. Something was very wrong.

As he took small, carefully placed steps he suddenly had an impulse to not open the door, just to run – he had a bad feeling he didn't want to see what was on the other side. He cursed himself for thinking the worst – and he'd been running too much lately.

With a deep breath he held his hand out and pulled down on the golden door handle. The door swiftly opened, however it never distracted the couple on the bed.

It felt like time had stopped as he stood unnoticed witnessing a scene which was just about to destroy his very being.

He felt a wave of freezing arctic water wash over him as his breath came to a standstill. His mouth dropped and his stomach twisted into a painful knot. He felt himself shake in his boots.

He should have known.

It took him all of 5 seconds to move as quietly as he'd come back down the stairs – he almost ran to the door nearly forgetting to pick up his motorcycle helmet on the way.

He closed it somehow calmly behind him before he rushed to his motorbike, jumped on and drove off into the setting sun.


End file.
